


Do you like jumping off of high areas to your inevitable death?

by AQuietThinker



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Maggician Scar, Magic, Minecraft, Multi, Multiple Perspectives, One-Shots, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Winged Grian, minecraft personas ONLY, prompts, season 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24271747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQuietThinker/pseuds/AQuietThinker
Summary: A series of many small chapters with One.shots of the many Hermits. Includes fluff, angst, frienships, relationships, and more.Prompts always welcome!(No complex redstone though)
Relationships: Grian/Mumbo Jumbo, Multiple Relationships - Relationship, Multiple Romantic Relationships
Comments: 45
Kudos: 171





	1. The Trident Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

> Hello beautiful human beings!
> 
> As much as I know that I should be updating my other works, I had a burst of inspiration last night and wrote the first chapter down. I love Hermitcraft and had been wanting to make small prompts for quite a long while. Most of these are prompt based.
> 
> x)

Three silvery feathers, each one stained with tenuous lines of dark blood, softly fell to the ground on the last attempt to flap his wings. The three metal spikes were still impaled in the hard wooden floor, with his left wing stuck in between. The blood on the seagreen trident was now brownish, after endless hours of sitting in an awkward position.

Grian was in trouble. Again.

He had definitely not planned for this to happen.

Ironically, his tools and communicator were calmly sitting at the bottom of a trunk meters away, the faint glow of enchantments mocking him from the crack between the top of the storage box. Grian had tried everything: taking off the trident by hand (which only caused it to press tighter against his wing), squishing some sunflower oil to ease it off, and even thought of wrenching his wing free.

_ But that would hurt. A lot, and probably permanently damage my wing until I die and respawn magically in my bed. _

Dying, however simple the method was, would pain him and worry the other hermits. The last thing he needed was Xisuma following him for days in order to keep an eye on the youngest hermit.

(Not that it had happened before)

(To be fair, it wasn’t his fault that he was in a hurry and had digged straight down)

Grian groaned loudly, probably scaring away the few birds that had been resting in the entrance of the hobbit hole. His whole left side was now burning, and he could feel the slowly fading corpse of the Drowned still staring at him. He wailed out again, feeling as some of the bamboos right outsides shook. Maybe if he screamed loud enough a passing hermit would hear him.

_ That's what you get by messing around with mobs. _

Planning out stuff had never been his forte. Grian acted when he sprung an idea, going full out artistic mode with his supplies and not stopping until the masterpiece was finished. But, however talented others claimed him to be, in this moment he felt downright stupid.

He could see the tall bamboo swaying with the cold winter breeze, some fish in the near lake, hell, even the newly added bridges from Scar’s magical village were in his view. No doors, just the small snowflakes of winter rolling into the very entrance of his starter home.

_ Everyone's probably busy right now. Stress and Iskall were having a meeting with Xisuma, remember? Mumbo is working in the sugar cane farm, Ren is not that near, Scar… Scar is probably collecting dye for his magical crystals. _

A smile formed in his lips at the mentions of all those hermits, those friends he cherished.

_ Scar’s the best magician around. He’s probably just floating around near BDubs place. It sure is peaceful for a house made with diorite…  _

Grian sighed, looking at his wound again. It was not deep, not life threatening. One of Stresses potions would heal any damage in no time, and for now he just had to wait. He could take a nap. Yeah, that was a great idea. A nap.

\------------------------------

His elytra nearly shattered to pieces as he landed abruptly on the ground, making him fall to his knees and scrape the edges of the violet cape on the muddy beach. So much for a smooth landing. Repairing the pair of wings was an easy task with magic, but his need for a better spell was urgent. This was the third time this week they failed mid flight, making the magician remind himself to look for a better spell.

Scar, the only magician in the planet who could animate materials into organic beings but couldn't make his elytra work for more than a week.

_ I can ask Cleo…  _

The cold made him shiver even in the bundle of scarves, and he jogged his way towards the mainland. 

As he turned to the colorful banners of his village something zoomed past his ear. The magician spun around and barley dodged another flying trident, landing next to the crystal fountain. A drowned, with a missing leg, was crawling pathetically towards him. He fetched his sword and decapitated the monster just as it pulverised to dust and greenish vile.

_ What in the world is a Drowned doing this far into the jungle? _

His curiosity spiked as he let the elytra he had picked up inside one of the prismarined roofed houses, walking towards the sandy banks now coated in icicles. A trail of vile leaded to the lake, and, as he looked up to see where it had come from, spotted a few more decaying monsters near… Grian hobbit hole. No wonder.

Scar chuckled, stroking his chin as he ventured through the jungle near his neighbor, feeling the small stubble of hair that had grown since his last haircut. Cleo had cursed him for months with greying beards, but, after many haircuts, he was able to get his signature look back.

His surprise came when he saw the usually lovely entrance of the hill home covered in the greenish vile, tridents, and a few rails. Red stone dust stained some of the windows and part of the entrance was wet.

_ What in the… _

“Scar! My saviour”

A weary, yet cheerful voice emerged from the entrance.

“My fellow brain cell! My graceful Gandalf!”

Grian was laying on the ground, staring at him as he raised one arm in the air and shook it. Scar’s yes observed him, trying to figure out why he was laying on the ground, without moving and- oh.

He finally noticed the wing, flat and stained against the ground, stuck like a fly with and arrow due to a trident.

Oh, Grian.

\--------------------------------

Grian winced once more, face twisting in pain as Scar finished tying the gauze around the tightly wrapped wing, now in mobile and obstructed by a few wooden sticks to hold the position. With a few healing tonics and a few painkillers it would heal in a day or two, but simply being confined to bed rest for a few hours peeved him.

“Mind telling me what inspired you to get pinned on the floor?”

Scar had taken a few minutes of mixed shock, laughter, and horror to finally help him, mumbling apologise for finding the dilemma so waggish.

“I’m sorry, but Grian will not answer any queries until further notice.”

The magician shook in laughter once again and accidentally tightened his grip on the feathers, ripping a tangled gasp from Grian’s throat. He tried to aim a playful punch at the purple cloaked hermit, but he dodged it easily.

“I mean it, G-Man.” Scar insisted, wiping the tears from his face. “Why? You could have solved the dilemma easily.”

Grian shuffled a little, trying to move his other wing and test it out before looking at his neighbor.

“Drowned farm” he replied.

“Uh-huh.”

“I need the XP!”

“You have a spawner.”

“Well I wanted more.”

“Yeah, right.”

Grian groaned, ignoring the crossed arm man behind him. He busied himself with a few of the shulker boxes, trying to figure out a better way to carry them all the way to the mansion without the use of his wings. Perhaps a mule would make do? He would not be capable of travelling to the nether or anyone else in this state, so getting a creature to help him was his best bet to finish the errands for today.

“How are you not cold? I have five scarves and it’s still cold.”

“Guess you’re not the greatest wizard then.”

“Hey, I just saved your life.”

He huffed out air through his nostrils and swung a thicker sweater over his functional outfit, clearly not made for cold temperatures.

“What do  _ you _ think made me stuck in this incident, Scar?” he teased.

A sigh erupted from the wizard. “Honestly, I thought someone was taking revenge on you when I saw the drowned.”

“Why would someone take revenge on me?”

“I don’t know, Grian.” Scar chuckled. “Possibly Tango, after the robbery of his hand-manufactured door?”

“What?” Grian stumbled with the chest he was holding. “Why are you insinuating I had something to do with it? I have nothing to do with the door thief! I don’t even have doors! Why on earth would I need doors?”

The smirk on Scar’s face made him grin, forgetting about his wing for a moment. Scar shook his head and closed the med kit, placing it back in one of the many messy counters.

“Just saying.” He paused, breathing in the cozy home. “You should take a break, Grian.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, man.” Scar replied, much to the younger one’s surprise. “You’ve been working non-stop on that amazing mansion of yours, collecting stuff for the barge, mining, nearly dying thrice. Take a break.”

The thought lingered in Grian’s mind longer than he hoped it would have. Scar’s point of view made sense, but he wanted to keep working. Sure, collecting concrete, sand, gravel and many materials was difficult and exhausting in the coldness of winter, but he could take it, however young others thought him to be. Hardships were part of the process of building, and he was proud of his accomplishments.

Yet… he could not overwork himself. Last time that happened not only did he die, but no hermit would let him out of their watch. This last months was no different; forgetting to eat, even if there was a piece of freshly roasted mutton or warm bread near his clutter of chests, not sleeping in ages, trying to heal frostbite after spending too much time outside without a proper coat.

“Damnit.”

A knowing smile from Scar relaxed his shoulders a little.

“It happens to the best of us, Grian. Everyone takes some time off every now and then. Take a nap, explore the biomes, relax.” the magician said. “You can spend some time over at my place if you want.”

A less tense feeling settled in the builder’s stomach as he breathed deeply, folding his wings carefully on his back. Scar was right, as always.

“Fine, I’ll take some time. But you better help me finish the waterfalls in the base of my dear mansion when this vacation ends.”

“Sure.”

He smiled, finally letting the tiered lines of his face show off with no shame. Vacation, holidays. Just a few days of relaxation. And healing.

“Thanks, Scar.” he mumbled.

“Anytime, Grian. But do me a favour…”

“Huh?”

“Next time you plan to impale yourself on the floor try to have your communicator on you.”

“Shut up!”


	2. A Furry Little Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cub x Scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovley human beings!
> 
> I'm so happy to finally upload something! I had a spare hour today to edit this bit and upload it before going back to work. I'm still going to be very busy the next few weeks, but by mid June I end exams, so I'll have more time.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (All spelling mistakes on me, english is not my first language.)

Scar shot Cleo another anxious look as she observed the cat in the table before them. She pinched the bridge of her nose with two green fingers, stuck in deep thought. The magician wanted to pluck his hair out in frustration. Five hours and no one could come up with a solution.

“Scar… “ began Stress, a step back from the zombie woman. “Tell me again what happened, please?”

“I told you already-”

“Calm down, mate. I just want to know the full detail.”

Scar sighed softly before repeating his tale for the third time, knowing full well that Stress was only wanting to get him away from Cleo for her to fully concentrate.

“I left for just a few minutes to fetch a mended axe and when I came back he was like this. I couldn't figure out what had happened, or find any evidence. I tried to give him some food then called you, Cleo afterwards.”

The redhead finally looked up from her examination with a few questions. She adjusted ivy flowers atop her messy hair and turned fully to face the pair.

“Were you doing anything out of the ordinary in the observatory?”

“No, just a few basic potions and some tinkering with crystals, the ones from the south mines. But apart from that the building is mostly empty.”

“Did you give him any tonic?” inquired Stress.

“No. I was afraid they would not work on a feline.” he hesitated. “Any discoveries, Cleo?”

“Well… “ she smirked. “It seems as though you managed to turn dear old Cub into a cat.”

_ No shit Sherlock _

“Did you do it on purpose?” giggled Stress.

“Stress!” he whipped around. “Why would I turn Cub into a cat?”

The girls just chuckled at him before Cleo continued.

“I saw this once a few years ago with Impulse and one of his friends. It should wear off by tomorrow or so, but you have to be very careful that he does not come in contact with other magic.”

Great. He had to carefully care for his lover without being the blame of Cub staying a fluffy, grey car forever. He crossed his arms in an attempt to calm his nerves.

“It’ll be fine.” assured him Stress while putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just today and maybe a little part of tomorrow. You love cats, don’t you?”

“I do but… but-” he ran his fingers through his hair. “This is Cub, not just a pet, he’s… it's Cub.”

“Yeah, yeah, loverboy. The whole world knows of your relationship.” giggled Cleo. “If you’re done, I really need to finish some enchantments before tomorrow.”

“W-what? How do you guys know? We have barley even... I’m not that…”

“Obvious?” prompted Stress, dragging him away from the hidden library.

“Am I?”

“Not as much as Grian and Mumbo, but everyone has their suspicions.”

“Oh.”

Stress gently placed the grey cat on his arms, cooing at it softly before spreading her pink wings. She smirked, probably wanting to capture the picture of a purring cat and a terrified Scar.

“You’ll have fun! It’s just a cat.”

She flapped her wings and elevated quickly away from his position.

“It’s not just a cat, its….” he stared at cat Cub’s wide eyes. “It’s Cub.”

\----------------------------------

After a quick swing to the shopping district for a more appropriate meal for the cat, Scar, retreated to the warmth of Larry’s shell, preferred to spend the night figuring things out instead of sleeping. He had learned, the hard way, that cats don't enjoy traveling through portals and had small claw marks in his arms where Cub had gripped him harshly. After placing his furry boyfriend in a nest of purple blankets on his bed, he proceeded to work things out with quill and parchment.

“If I map things out, maybe I can understand what happened.” he said, expecting a reply from the cat. It only purred softly at the warmth.

“You arrived to the lake, we… we kissed.” a blush covered Scar’s face. “Which was really nice. I wanted to show you the newly finished Observatory, but could not access it because of the boards that covered the entrance.”

He began scribbling it all out in the black ink, trying to get a clearer picture.

“Neither of us had a way to take them down without damaging the doorway, so I left for five minutes to fetch an axe.” he dipped the quill in ink once more. “When I was returning, I heard a loud bang and just as I turned around the corner, you were a fluffy ball of fur.”

Even with all the feline creatures, Scar could still identify Cub’s sweet, caring eyes.

“You must feel weird at least. Are you hungry? Not sure what I can give you… think you can eat only cat food, or normal food?” He went on. “Perhaps some cooked fish and milk? I have milk here, the fish I could borrow from Grian, or maybe even Mumbo, but it’s snowing so maybe going out can be… “

A loud meow interrupted his loud train of thought.

“I’m ranting, right? Sorry about that. Do you dislike that about me? I can change it up a little.”

_ God, Scar, you are talking to a Cat. _

_ Yes but that cat is actually Cub. _

_ More the reason to stop blurting out your insecurities over the relationship. _

“I can’t believe I’m complaining to you right now. I’m not sure how much you will remember this tomorrow but.. I really like you. Like, like you like you.”

The cat purred as Scar pulled off his boots and got on the bed to scratch its ears.

“You’re so concerned with my safety and always admire my creations, I mean they’re great and all, but it's different when you compliment me. Is that weird? Am I being weird?”

Cub only continued purring and stretched for a belly rub.

“I guess you’re right. Time to sleep for a while, before figuring out what breakfast will be.”! He smiled, covering himself up with another blanket. “I love you.”

\-------------------------------

“Five more minutes.”

“Wake up, Scar.”

“Mmm, it's too early.”

“Just open your eyes.”

He agreed and blinked a few times to accustomed his eyes to the blinding sunlight. It was probably near noon but he still felt heavy with sleep. Someone else was in the bed with him. Good, let them sleep too-

“Cub!”

“Hey.” he smiled, packing the builder in the cheek. 

“Did you watch me sleep?”

“You looked so pretty.”

Scar blushed, snuggling underneath the covers and closer to the warmth of the other body.

“I missed you.”

“I noticed.”

Cub wrapped an arm around his boyfriend, smirking at the tired eyes that easily drifted back to a soft slumber. He snuggled closer, burying his face in the builder’s head.

“Sorry about the scratches.” he mumbled into his hair.

“No worries. Jellie does it all the time.”

The snow falling outside created a winter wonderland that Cub observed happily while his lover yawned.

“Scar?”

“Mhm?”

“I also really like you like you.”

The builder blushed but beamed, vaguely pleased that Cub had actually heard all of his ranting without complaining.

“We really really like like each other.”

“I guess we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes I need to put out:
> 
> This story does not follow a particular timeline. If a prompt that is longer than the others it will probably be another work but part of a Prompt series. If a character is in a relationship with another one, there is no guarantee that that relationship will continue in future chapters.
> 
> Also, some of this chapters may not be completely in line with reality. That’s just part of my imagination an AU. Like Grian being the youngest an all.
> 
> Lastly, I really want to add the factor that when someone dies it's a huge deal. Like dying in real life but, you know, with respawning. But I'm not sure how to write that. ANy ideas?
> 
> x)


	3. Silly Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mubmo & Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there
> 
> Sorry for such a late update :/. Prompt by Crescendo_of_Thoughts.
> 
> x)

  


_ Just a few more kilometers… _

Mumbo could feel the cracks in the elytra, feel the pair of wings slipping down his shoulders as he used another rocket. The colorful supply was also reaching its end; five more and that would be it. 

_ You silly spoon. If Xisuma figures this out he’ll never let me leave my base without a shulker box of rockets and elytra. _

With one final strenuous sound, the thing fell to pieces, plummeting the redstoner towards the ocean with it. He tried to glide his body into a more comfortable position, and braced himself for the salt water, already feeling the coldness of the waters.

Instead, he got a mouthful of sand, a broken nose and a loud groan. Everything turned black.

\------------------------------

“With a cobblestone base you can make a better cascading effect to the sand. Maybe even add more underneath the water to make a believable coast and add sprinkles of purple and green concrete powder in order to- Grian? Are you even paying attention?”

The light haired builder nearly collided with the magician when he stopped dead on his track, stopping his terraforming explanation. Scar didn’t feel upset, but rather peeved that his long monologue may have been heard only by the few salmons of the jungle lake.

“No, no… I mean, yes, of course Scar. Sand and concrete powders and stuff, yeah?”

One of Scar’s eyebrows shot up and questioned him, but he kept explaining.

“If you want to add more detail, sugarcane is always a great for mixing in with nature, but you need to keep it trimmed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If it all grows to an even level it looks terrible. You can wrap small bundles of string or even get an enchantment, or whatever building hacks you have. Iskall usually… Grian?”

Scar rubbed the bridge of his nose and had the urge to juggle away from the younger one’s presence as he noticed that the builder was staring at a book in his hands. He knew Grian was easily distracted, but he couldn't keep wasting time on advice no one would hear.

“Grian, if you’re not paying attention, I can come back later.” he muttered.

“Yes, but actually, no, no no, Scar!” 

Grian stretched out his wings, looking straight at the magician. “Something is bugging me, not you of course, but something is. Please stay, just hear me out.”

Scar’s shoulders sagged with a sigh as the other male scanned through his journal.

“Look at this.”

He offered him the journal, with blotchy ink scribbles and badly sketched designs.

“What about it?”

“Look here.” he asked, motioning a small list of dates. “I keep track of Mumbo’s messages.”

What?

“Are you trying to tell me all about your needy girlfriend shenanigans, or is this important, G-Man?”

“Wait for it, Scar. And…” a small blush tinted Grian’s cheeks with embarrassment. “...I am not a needy girlfriend.”

“Right.”

“No need for sarcasm, my crystal-loving friend. See, here it said that Mumbo sent me some bottles I needed. Two days later, he sent some iron vases from his farm.” he pause, taking in a deep breath. “I obviously placed them with some of your amazing black roses, but that’s not the point, is it?”

“No?” Scar was confused, not only by Grian tightening his hold on his shoulder and nearly shoving the journal into his nose.

“See, Mumbo may not always reply, except for when he does, which is in an average amount of three to six days. But if you see this date.” He pointed at a small, jiggly number. “You realize that was two weeks ago. Two weeks! I thought I had seen him in the iron farm, but when I flew by this morning before coming to you, It turned out to be one of those pesky silverfish instead of our dear Mumbo Jumboleo!”

“Your point being?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Scar?” Grian pressed his cheek against Scar’s own as they looked at the sky. “Our very own jungle redstoner has gone in an adventure without telling us!”

What.

“Don’t you mean that he’s missing?”

“That’s what I said.”

Scar couldn't help but roll his eyes and gently pull away, pondering about the messy plot Grian has just blurted. In all his silliness, the builder was not completely off; Scar could not recall when he last saw Mumbo.

“Have you asked around?”

“Does it look as if I’ve asked around?”

Grian looked too hyped on mushrooms and caffeine to be even thinking properly, reminding Scar to keep on a lookout the next time his neighbour decided to go on a mad building spree.

“Alright, I get your point.” he scratched his head and thought for a second. “I’m sure it's nothing serious. Why don’t we go check out his base first? Oh, and message Iskall Maybe he’s just in some of those ridiculous Hermit Challenges.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

\----------------------------------

Something was licking his nose, something heavy and stoic. He could feel something dry plastered around his face among the shower of sand and some gravel. As soon as he tried to pop his eyes open, the microscopic rocks went in and made him wince as his hands shot up to remove the intrusion. Everything was sore and cracked.

_ Come on, Mumbo, get up. You were probably out for a few hours. _

He had to force his arms to do a push up and get to his knees. After rubbing his eyes a few times he was finally able to see where he was; A broad island with pleasant pale sand, a variety of flowers, and a few chests. It seemed to have been previously occupied by some other hermit months before, perhaps for a small utility base while working on a different large-scale project. He himself did that many times.

“Must have hit the ground harshly… “ he said, partially to himself, partially to the turtle stretching its neck at him.

The creature's nose was bloodstain, making Mumbo instinctively reach to touch his own nose. Yep. definitely bloody, but it didn't hurt enough to be broken.

“Where do you think we are… Sally?”

He couldn't help but smile brightly at the nostalgic name, crouching to his  knees to pet the turtle. It only regarded him with an unimpressed expression, continuing to lick its left eye.

“I suppose you don’t have a clue either. Let’s look around, shall we?”

\-----------------------------

Grian stared at the endless row of chests, all filled to the brim with many contraptions and devices he could not comprehend. He opened one and stared at the contents: two observers linked together by those redstone cables Mumbo crafted himself, and the remains of a broken sticky piston. He wished he could understand what it did to impress the clever man.

“Grian saw him last two weeks ago near his barge, Scar saw him near the sand deposit two days after that, and I myself met him for Hermit CHallenges with Stress five days ago.”

Iskall had arrived to Scar’s wizarding tower nearly five minutes after they messaged him, sporting a worried expression. Grian was surprised at how clueless the three of them were at figuring out why the moustache man was missing. He couldn't remember the last time a Hermit went missing, except the occasion in which he was stuck in a cave with no pickaxe for a few days.

_ That was hellish even If I found cascades of diamonds. _

“Have you all looked around his base?” Iskall interrupted his thoughts, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Scar spoke up for him.

“Only here, but not his hobbit hole, or the iron farms.”

Iskall kept his pensive expression even if his bionic eye kept moving around.

“Alright then. Scar, maybe you can go check the farms while I go ask others if they have seen Mumbo.”

\------------------------------

With his blazer discarded on the nearby rocks and dress shirt sleeves pulled to his elbows, Mumbo set his vision on the surroundings of the hilltop. The island was small, no less than ten by ten meters, but held enough treasure for him to live in. He wasn’t able to figure out its previous owner, for there were no unique markings from any of the Hermits building styles. There were, however, a few chests with fresh fruit, a few dusty building supplies, and cloth umbrellas.

“What do you think, Sally? Good enough place?”

The turtle’s beady eyes met with his for a second before it continued to munch on the hem of his blazer. 

“Munch as much as you want, but you must agree that this island is paradise.” he said. “Beautiful smooth sand, flowers and landscape, though minimal, that I haven’t enjoyed for… months maybe?”

He stretched out his arms, vividly laughing at his silly mistake.

“Oh sally, I'm a fool! I’m surrounded by beautiful creations all over the world and don’t enjoy them. For once I can finally have some peace and tranquility with food and views.”

The grin on his face as wide as he settled down under the tattered umbrellas of the island, for once ignoring the red dust on his dress shirt and closing his eyes..

“I was going to share these fresh apples with you Sally, but you seem comfortable enough with that blazer.”

\-----------------------------------------

“Tango has been with Impulse for some time and they had not seen Mumbo since three days ago. Stress saw him in hermit challenges, False was busy structuring her headquarters so she did not see anyone since Bdubs…” Iskall paused, taking a peek at the list in his hand. “Rendog saw him last in the nether when he was setting up his portal from the Saloon, Cub, Doc and Jevin saw him in the shopping district, and that’s all I got.”

“Joe and Keralis haven’t seen Mumbo since their mining expedition south and Cleo met with him in the shopping district a week ago.”

Grian could feel the dismay in Xisuma’s voice, and winced when the man brought his fist against the opposite wall, feeling like a child that had angered its father. The older hermit was heavily upset with Mumbo’s disappearance, especially after the fact that none of them had told him for three days.

“What about a search party?” prompted Scar. “Cub and I can re-model some of those old drones in the storage of ConCorp to scan more area, along with any volunteering hermits.”

“Making a manpowered search party will not be hard.” the hermit replied. “I’m sure everyone will be disturbed and willing to help. The idea on drones is perfect though.”

Scar nodded fervently and left the room, ruffling Grian’s hair on the way out. As he heard the ruffling of elytra and combustion of rockets, the younger hermit felt more shame. Iskall, receiving glare from Xisuma, also made his exit.

In all of the warmth and snug feeling that Scar’s meeting room provided, Grian felt as cold as the icy winter waters outside. He could sense Xisuma’s eyes digging on his hair, but remained quiet an expected an angry outburst from the older one. Nothing came, just the man stroking his jaw tiredly and sitting down.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone, Grian?”

“I, well I didn’t think it would be weird.” his voice was stuttering too much. “Mumbo had been, I think, slightly distant the last few weeks and I just supposed he was buying himself on the farming district. I didn’t even play any pranks because I thought he would get mad. I didn’t want to bug him or make him feel annoyed by me.”

Along, yet not disappointed sigh escaped Xisuma’s lips.

“Grian, Mumbo’s never been annoyed by you. I was just upset that you did not report it.”

The man paused and stood up, staring out the window into the snowy village. He smiled, finally looking less tired.

“It’s just for the safety of everyone.”

“I know, I know.”

“Good. Why don’t you go help Iskall gather all the Hermits? Ren already told me we could meet in the Saloon.”

“Sure.”

Grian lost no time in exciting the room, however warm it was compared to the cold outside. He spread out his wings and adjusted his scarf. It was going to be a long day.

\----------------------------------------

False frowned at her inventory, trying to figure out what was missing. She had and extra cloak, enough food for the long journey, enough potions just in case. Her envy for Grian’s wings would not make due, and nearly five stacks of rockets were packed in her inventory along with whatever BdUbs brought along. She had her pickaxe, bow and arrows.

“What is even missing?”

Her voice echoed throughout the hollowed center of her base all the way to bedrock. As soon as Scar crashed into her ceiling and hurriedly informed about the meeting they would have, she had halted her concrete production and flown to the mesa biome with coal dust all over her face. The meeting was long, and full of worry from many, and now she was packing for a search force to the unknown.

Xisuma had organized them in teams, but for now she was packing and waiting. Waiting in horrible desperation for her friend.

_ Damnit Mumbo, you of all people know how to take care of yourself. _

She heard Bdubs arrival when he landed gracefully through her water entrance, shaking the droplets off the chalky jumper. False had always found him a handsome hermit, with strong jawline, with nice chocolate hair and small stubble on his chin, but right now worry lines covered the face of the builder.

“Ready to go?”

“Nearly.” she said. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

Bdubs inspected her satchel, and frowned with a small smile.

“Sword?”

“Shit, yes.”

She looked around in a hurry but could not spot the gleaming weapon. 

_ I’m sure it was around here somewhere. _

“False.” he said.

“Wait, I’m sure it was here. I probably left it inside a chest.”

“False, stop.”

“Don’t worry, look, here is my old one, it could do, but if you help me search over there-”

“False!”

The taller male put his hands on his shoulders to stop her actions, with two eyes filled with concern. The blonde let her shoulders sag, sighing.

“We are all worried for Mumbo, but if you hurt yourself in that worry it will do no good.”

_ I know. _

“Yeah, sorry.”

\----------------------------------------

Three days, nine hours, and exactly 23 minutes had passed since the Hermits had begun scanning each biome carefully to look for the moustache engineer. Cub and Scar’s drones had worked perfectly the first day but were broken down by a rare rainfall in the mesa biomes, leaving the two stuck in Cub’s piramide, trying to fix the damaged wires.

Bdubs and False had searched through some of the islands before returning to mainland, followed by Ren and Cleo. After the second day, most Hermits had decided to look on their feet in small spaces while the other few still roamed the skies.

“I’m running out of fuel.” spat out Ethos, hoping the others would hear him.

He tried to peacefully land on a Taiga tree, but as soon as he crashed a few branches cut through his hair and left him stuck in a tangle of leaves and vines. The grey-haired hermit was in no need to scream for help as the other flyers settled on the bottom of the trunk. 

Stress, careful that her wings did not get stuck along with his body, cut away any leaffage with some shears before they both glided to the ground.

“Did you get hurt?” inquire Xisuma.

“No, just a little bruised.” the man grunted, analysing himself. “I just don’t think I can fly anymore.”

No one complained or mentioned the fact that, even if the hermit did have enough rockets, he had fallen due to exhaustion.

“I can keep looking through-”

“No.”

The group turned to Xisuma, slightly surprised over the interruption.

“Listen, I know we are all worried about Mumbo, but most of us haven't slept properly or ate in a while. Those in worse shape need to take a rest.”

“But X, what if-”

“Stop, Grian.” the Hermit put a hand on the younger one’s shoulder. “You and I can keep flying towards the north ocean from here, but it would be better if Stress took Ethos and Tango back home.”

The blonde demon stood up from his resting place, ready to protest, but everyone could agree by simply looking at the dark bags under his red eyes that he was in no shape to travel.

“We’ll keep you updated to see if we find anything.” said Xisuma. “If you can call of the other teams and ask them to rest for a while it would be great.”

Stress nodded, and turned to the others, preparing to go back home.

\--------------

Mumbo yawned, happily stretching out his limbs. He had managed to repair the tattered umbrella with parts of his blazer. His nose was still aching, but the distractions of the island seemed to lessen the pain.

The island was a beauty. Pale sand, a small rocky cliff, no civilization in any direction. He reckoned that when he returned home he would come back with appropriate supplies to the make the place a nicer getaway.

As he looked up towards the rising sun, he noticed two moving dots in the distance. 

“You see that, Sally?” he asked. “Perhaps it's another one of those pesky birds- wait, is that…?”

He stood up, smiling and waving towards the unrecognised hermits. As they approached, the smoke of rockets trailing behind one of them, Mumbo was able to identify them. He could see Xisuma’s yellow helmet clearly, a few stray black hairs escaping from its visor. The other one, he realised happily, was Grian. He stood back as X landed heavily on the sand, but soon came to realise that Grian was not-

A strong, small body crashed into him, sending both into the soft sand.

Well, hello there.

\-------------

“Where- How, did- how did?”

Grian could only tighten his arms around Mumbo as he cried out loud, unable to talk properly. The taller man patted his head while returning the embrace, shooting Xisuma a questioning glare.

“What Grian means-” said Xisuma, just as shocked to see the engineer in a good shape. “- are you alright?”

“Oh yes, I’m terrific.”

The short blonde could only sob harder at that, worry, emotions, and exhaustion clouding upon him. Mumbo was alright.

“How did you get here?”

Mumbo scratched the back of his neck, embarrassment heating up his face. “My elytra broke… I was going to fix it, but realised it had been such a long time since I took some time off. This is Sally, by the way.”

Both Hermits, one shocked, another still sniffing, stared at the unimpressed turtle.

“S-Sally?”

“Yeah, Grian.

The three hermits stood on the beach, each still processing the recent events.

“Don’t you… don’t you ever do that again!” Grian snapped, tightening his hold on Mumbo’s waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Should have called you guys.”

“You didn't have your communicator on you?” inquire Suma.

“I, erm… left it at home?”

Xisuma's left eye twitched in annoyance. “See, this exactly is why I can’t trust neither of you! First Grian gets himself stuck on the floor with a trident, a trident! Then Cub gets turned into a fucking cat, then you, Mumbo Jumbo. I swear-”

They both smiled as the older Hermit cursed at the sky. He might seem severely disappointed, but it wouldn't last.

It was time to go home.

\--------------------

  
  
  
  
  
“ _ WHAT _ do you mean he was on holiday? That… that big old spoon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A, some good old spoon action. Hope you all liked it! Thank you so much to Crecsendo_Of_Thoughts (did I spell that correctly?) for the prompt!
> 
> Stay safe everyone!
> 
> x)


	4. Stuck With Me (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grian/Mumbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I am so sorry for not posting, I'll explain, but first enjoy this short chapter.
> 
> This first part is for Winged_Ember who gave me the idea, but.... Zippity_Dot, if you're reading this, I know your Mumbo/Grian prompt came first and I promise I'll work on it. There's going to be a second part to this short story.

_ “ _

_ Here we have our favourite specimen in their natural habitat, tinkering with the most confusing and complex components known in history. He works cautiously, placing each torch and screw with precision. Dear me, in the bliss of concentration he seems to have a redstone coloured mustache instead of the beautiful black one. Why have you fallen to the clutches of crimson?!” _

_ Grian had giggled as he moved closer to the redstoner, camera in hand. Mumbo had glanced at him with vague annoyance before settling back on the metal screws. The winged hermit continued with his monologue. _

_ “As our unique specimen continues, he finds himself incapable of adjusting the screws correctly, and turns to find another wrench to use.” _

_ “What on earth are you doing?” he had asked, folding his arms at the camera. _

_ “Is the Jumbolio specimen angering?” _

_ “Grian.” _

_ “Come on, dude.” the shorter hermit groaned. “I’m on bed rest for a long while, let me have my fun.” _

_ “It’s what you get for pinning yourself on the floor with a-” _

_ “A trident, I know that.” interrupted Grian. “Well you had us worrying all over the place for magically disappearing.” _

_ Mumbo had smiled and gone back to work. “Is your wing better?” _

_ “Meh. It wasn't bad in the first place, and I was able to fly to go fetch you from your impromptu vacations so…” _

_ “Still. Shouldn't you be resting?” he asked. _

_ “What, don’t want me to be here?” _

_ Oh, no. “You know I love your presence, Grian.” he said, blushing. “I’m just worried that these so called vacations of your are not actually being spent resting.” _

_ “Oh, sorry.” _

_ “It's fine. Why don’t you go home and rest for the day, maybe tinker around with that camera? I can pop by later.” _

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Grian had always loved soaring through the skies. Being born with natural wings was a beautiful gift, and he had always pushed himself past any limit to fly spectacularly. He didn't need propellers or portals (well, only occasionally) to get from place to place. His wings, a magnificent blue with soft yet strong feathers. Yep, he loved flying.

Well, he loved flying when his wings didn't hurt.

As the strawberry blonde flapped his wings, a thrill of pain shot through his left wing.

_ Come one, just a few more- _

It hurt too much. He was still above water, and became very suddenly terrified of his fate. The impact on the water wouldn't really kill him if he was able to glide, but he’d still be stuck in the middle of the ocean.

Xisuma was going to kill him.

Grian extended both wings and ignored the sting, trying to reach the glassy surface and fetch his communicator from the satchel.

_ Come on, Mumbo. I know you always check your own… please. _

He typed a short message blindly, before the device slipped from his hands and into the water, just as his legs met with the icy surface.

Xisuma was definetly going to murder him.

_ It could be worse. _

Grian knew he had a history of shenanigans and finding himself in odd situations. Ren sometimes found him in a collapsed mining shaft at the red desert, Stress once had to fetch shears to untangle him from jungle vines, and he couldn't even remember the amount of times Mumbo found him after an explosion, blackened by ashes and smiling like a dork.

At least he was a few kilometres from land.

He dug through his pockets quickly before fully submerging, finding a nearly intact firework. If anyone were to fly by, at least he would be able to ignite the thing to alert them of his dilemma.

At least Mumbo received the message.

For now he could only wait.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Have you seen Grian?”

Scar, slightly healthier and leaning on the door frame with a cup of tea, stared at him questioningly.

“Is he in trouble?” the magician asked. “‘Cause as the new mayor, I should be informed, right?”

“No, he isn't. I just can’t find him.” Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. 

“Mumbo, whenever anyone matches the phrase ‘I can’t find him’ with Grian, there’s probably gonna be trouble.”

_ Now that's terribly accurate,  _ he thought. “I’ll just keep looking for him. Thank you, though.”

Scar nodded, putting the tea down on a barrel and scooping Jelly in his arms. “Maybe he’s just going around, visiting others. When I told him to get a vacation he stopped working as harshly but kept going places.”

Mumbo nodded and petted Jelly before spreading his elytra and departing. His worry only increased after visiting a few Hermits. Five hours ago he had sent the short blonde to go rest, and, after a quick shower, had excitedly flown over to the towering mansion. After not finding him anywhere, he went to question Scar.

_ Perhaps the other might know. _

Ren was polishing his new spaceship. “Sorry, m’dude, I haven't seen Grian at all.”

Stress was visiting Iskall, but they both shook their heads. “Maybe you can ask Xb?”

No one could give him a straight answer until his communicator started beeping, himself being in the middle of the shopping district.

“Everything alright there, Mumbo?” Xisuma was patching up a tarp when he approached him.

Mumbo stopped himself, hesitating whether to tell the leader-like figure about Grian’s disappearance.

“Yep, all good here.”

Xisuma frowned. “You look out of breath. Did something happen?”

Damnit. He needed a quick excuse. “I, erm, seem to have lost a shulker box filled with redstone.”

The hermit smirked. “Though luck.”

“Yeah…” his mind was already elsewhere, beginning to walk towards the beach of the island.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

His wing stopped hurting after half an hour, and the only thing Grian could think of was the rocket he was struggling to keep dry. This, by far, was not the worst situation he had been in, but unlike other times, he couldn't morph a plan to get out. 

He wasn't able to fly, or swim for the matter.

_ Guess I’ll die. _

He smirked, chilled by the waters. Dying was not a terrible course of action, at least the others would be alerted and he’d just have to spent time in a comma till someone recovered his communicator and magically appear in his spawning point once more.

Grian felt guilty for disapointing X again, but he didn't find any solution.

_ It's not too bad. I don't need any more XP or- _

A faraway sound interrupted his train of thought- the flapping of an elytra. He had to shoot the firework now. As a green explosion coloured the sky, he began to scream. “Mumbo! My glorious saviour! I’m here! Mumbo! This is an order from Grumbot! Come down here, please!”

A pair of strong arms lifted him from the waters, and the strawberry blonde sighed into the tie of Mumbo’s chest as the firework kept going off.

“Mumbo, hi!”

As he prepared himself for a frustrated sigh, Mumbo only looked at him with worry. His teeth were chattering.

“Let’s go home, shall we?”

\- - - - - - - - - -

The mug of hot cocoa was still producing steam when he brought it up to his lips. Grian sighed constantly, spreading out his wings further on the cushions. He had forgotten all about Mumbo’s cozier hobbit hole, slightly abandoned after so much work on the symmetrical structure not far from his own base.

“Are we even now?” Mumbo asked, rubbing a towel gently on his floppy hair.

“I’ve said sorry a million times already-”

“I know, love.” shushed Mumbo. “But finding you in the middle of the ocean is not something to take lightly.”

“I sent you a message!”

“A vague, grammatically flawed message I couldn't understand until X started bugging me about your welfare!”

Mumbo seemed to be less agitated now that Grian’s pouting lips had returned to their natural colour instead of the cold blue. He settled on a cushion in front of the smaller male, taking his own cup of hot cocoa and rubbing his hands on the warm porcelain. 

“So are you going to stick me in bed rest again?”

The dark haired hermit shook his head and stuffed his hand into his pocket. “No. I’m sticking myself to you.”

“Huh?”

_ This is a terrible idea, Mumbo. You’ll absolutely regret- _

Internally cringing at his life decisions, Mumbo swiftly dumped a flask of the slime concoction Iskall had given him on Grian’s hand. He took the hand quickly as Grian’s eyes widened with shock and the mixture hardened around their enlaced fingers.

_ Relax, Mumbo. This is a terrible idea but maybe it’ll work. Just maybe. _

Why the heck did you do-”

“‘Cause you need a bloody break!” he stammered, feeling as surprised with his own self as Grian. “And this is probably the only way you or me are taking a break.”

Grian’s smirk betrayed his annoyed glance, bringing his hand up to the torch’s light.

“You are so gonna regret this.”

Mumbo sighed, drinking the rest of his milk before looking at Grian. “Don’t remind me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Hate it?
> 
> I either suck at writting or quarantine is getting to my nerves....
> 
> Apart from school I've had a massive writing block, but nothing some good Hermitcraft episodes can't fix! I promise I'm working on all the prompts you guys gave me- but I still need to watch a few more Hermits 'cause I don't know about all of them...
> 
> Is that rambling? I'm missing some social interaction.
> 
> Stay safe everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants a prompt in particular, feel free to write it down in a comment!
> 
> Stay safe.
> 
> x)


End file.
